


Blame it on the Scotch, or How Logan Cale Learned to Stop Worrying and Just Go For It

by Lucy Gillam (cereta)



Category: Dark Angel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-18
Updated: 2006-12-18
Packaged: 2018-01-25 05:08:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1633184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cereta/pseuds/Lucy%20Gillam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Logan was pretty sure he could blame the scotch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blame it on the Scotch, or How Logan Cale Learned to Stop Worrying and Just Go For It

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to way2busymom and amberlynne for the betas.
> 
> Written for Vanilla

 

 

It wasn't the worst day either one of them had had recently. In fact, on the list of Bad Days in the Life of Logan Cale and/or Alec McDowell, this one wasn't even in the top twenty. Not even in the top _forty_. Okay, so Mia had played them but good. But in the end, it wasn't that bad. A little embarrassment (and some things they were both going to pretend they'd never said), an ass-kicking by Max (which Alec would be the first to admit was neither uncommon nor entirely unpleasant), a little weirdness with Normal (who'd proven a little difficult to get rid of). It was hardly up there with getting shot or having an explosive chip in your head or missing out on your one chance to be with the woman you love because a genetically engineered monster has you cocooned in a car.

So how they both ended up at Crash drowning their sorrows in sub-par scotch was not quite clear to either of them. And if Logan was willing enough to admit that he had gone there with Max in hopes that she would open up a bit instead of pulling away again, that _really_ didn't explain how he ended up at Alec's apartment after Max had gone home, drinking significantly better scotch and complaining about women.

He was pretty sure he could blame the scotch.

"Just when you think you've got it all figured out, you know?" he said. "Something comes along and, wham! You forgot they don't like sun dried tomatoes, or that they like yellow roses better, or --"

"Or someone genetically engineers a virus so you can't touch her without dying," Alec said. He had the good sense to make an apologetic face when Logan glared at him, but he didn't exactly ooze sincerity. "Okay, probably shouldn't have brought that up, but that's my point. You? Worry way too much about little stuff. You've got secret government conspiracies and whacko cults and crime bosses after you, and you're talking about flower colors, like Max gives a shit about it. This, my friend, is your problem."

Logan opened his mouth to ask just what a happy-go-lucky sociopath would know about it, but decided to take another swallow of scotch instead. He felt a rant building about how Max had had little enough caring, little enough attention to detail in her life, and maybe she _deserved_ someone thinking about what color flowers she'd like. But he was already edging into the soppy portion of tonight's drinking adventure, and he didn't want to hurry that along.

Besides, it would probably go right over Alec's head, and thinking about why Alec would utterly fail to understand didn't exactly cheer him up.

"Okay, see, now you're brooding," Alec said. "Which was, in fact, the complete opposite of my point. You do too much of that."

That finally pushed Logan over the edge. "And what exactly is it you think I should be doing?"

"Spontaneity! Going for it!" Alec rolled his eyes. "Something like this."

Nearly two years knowing Max, and increasingly frequent contact with other transgenics, had almost gotten Logan used to the inhuman speed with which they moved. Almost. Clearly not enough to prepare him for finding himself flat on the couch, Alec on top of him.

The kissing was kind of a surprise, too.

Logan was too stunned to do anything but let himself be kissed, and almost reflexively kiss back, barely registering anything but Alec's mouth hard and aggressive on his own. He didn't even realize that Alec was undoing his belt until his pants were entirely open and being pushed down over his hips. That snapped him back to reality.

Logan pushed on Alec's shoulders, hard enough to get his attention. "What are you _doing_?" he demanded when Alec pulled back.

"Going for it." Alec raised an eyebrow. "You want me to stop?"

Logan started to say, "Yes!", then closed his mouth abruptly. He was in love with Max. That was a fact, the same way it was a fact that he couldn't move his legs, that he was determined to bring some justice to this world, and that he'd found a gray hair at his right temple two days ago. He was in love with Max. It was the first thing he thought of in the morning, and the last thing he thought of at night, even on days when Eyes Only occupied every other minute of his attention. It was _why_ he was here, drowning his sorrows in scotch. He was in love with Max.

And he couldn't touch her.

"No," he said. "I don't."

Alec nodded with a slight, knowing smile, one that would have changed Logan's mind if he'd had more than a second to see it before Alec was kissing him again.

Alec roughly pushed Logan's pants down to his knees, then sat up and examined the harness. "I'm guessing this takes time to get off. No pun intended."

"Yeah, it does." Logan swallowed against the knowledge that if the harness were off, he would lose its mobility, lose his ability to get up and leave (not that he particularly wanted to at this point, but not wanting to and not being able to were two very different things), lose his ability to move his lower body by himself. He had no doubt that Alec would be able to compensate for it, but if the thought of Max doing so had been barely tolerable, something he could swallow his pride over for the sake of being with her, the thought of Alec casually moving him around made him a little sick.

But Alec just nodded and said, "We can work around it."

Which he proceeded to do, deftly working Logan's boxers from under the harness, just far enough for him to feel the cold air of the apartment and the scratchy fabric of the couch. Logan had just a few seconds to register those, though, before Alec grinned again and leaned over and...

"Oh, _fuck_ ," Logan said.

"Close enough," Alec said, which was bad, it was _wrong_ because it meant his mouth was no longer doing, yes, exactly _that_.

There was nothing gentle about this, nothing refined or loving or careful, just heat and suction and a slight scrape of teeth that if you'd mentioned to Logan five minutes ago, he would have crossed his legs in horror, but right now was _exactly_ what he wanted. When he reached down to stroke Alec's hair, he found himself gripping it instead, gripping it _hard_ , and he took the tightening of Alec's hand on his hip as approval. The question of where Alec had learned to do, shit, _that_ with his fingers crossed Logan's mind, but he was pretty sure the answer would only depress him, so he pushed it away. Spontaneity. Going for it. It certainly had its points.

He tensed a bit when Alec pushed further back with his fingers, exploring places Logan wasn't sure he was ready to go, but Alec didn't push, just stroked and pressed a little, and who knew _that_ was a turn-on? But it was, apparently, a big, huge, whopping one, and Logan realized Alec was determined to give him a practical demonstration of what he meant by "going for it," and oh, _God_ was he not going to argue. Logan tried to tug on Alec's hair, to give him at least the chance to pull back. Alec ignored the warning, and Logan finally let go, let it all go in one long, noisy, _spontaneous_ groan, the kind he'd almost forgotten he could make.

It took Logan a moment to come back to himself, to find Alec sitting up on his heels, face flushed, his baggy clothes not quite baggy enough to hide his own arousal. His face was wearing its usual smirk, but for just a second, it seemed almost forced, and it made Logan realize with a pang that Alec, who never seemed to have trouble asking for what he wanted, wasn't sure how to ask Logan to return the favor he'd just given. Or maybe just thought that Logan wouldn't.

Well. Logan might not have known much about spontaneity, but he certainly _did_ know about good manners. He reached up and pulled Alec down into a rough kiss. Tasting himself, his own pleasure, in someone else's mouth was not a new experience, but it was one that never failed to move him. Alec shifted a bit onto his side against the back of the couch; whether it was to give Logan better access or to avoid putting his full weight on Logan was something Logan chose not to consider. His clothes were a bit of a challenge, Logan fumbling one-handed at his belt, but Alec was nothing if not helpful when his own interests were involved.

When Logan's hand found him, Alec pulled back with a grin. "Sure you know what you're doing?"

Logan rolled his eyes. "Remind me to tell you a few things about private schools sometime," he said, pulling Alec back down.

This was different, though, just as it was different from pleasing himself. He took his cues from Alec's earlier actions and responses and was rougher than he usually was with himself, pressing harder, not worrying about the calluses on his hands from physical therapy. He worked his hands between Alec's thighs, pressing harder than Alec had on him, pushing a finger just slightly inside. Alec responded by thrusting down against him.

Never let it be said that Logan Cale wasn't a quick study.

The sounds Alec was making into his mouth encouraged him, and he gripped Alec's hair again, pulling hard once before Alec gasped and came over Logan's hand.

Alec collapsed on top of him, burying his face in the crook of Logan's neck. The moment stretched, and Logan realized that he was stroking Alec's hair. In fact, they were perilously close to cuddling.

"So," he said, "I'm guessing increased sexual stamina isn't among your superpowers, then?"

Alec pushed up on his arms to glare at him, and Logan had a sense that if the day had been even slightly less long and trying, and Alec slightly less beat up, he might have gotten a thorough refutation of that statement. Which wasn't exactly an unpleasant thought, but one he wasn't sure he could survive right now. However, his comment had the desired effect. Alec stood, pulling his clothes into order, and headed to the bathroom. It took Logan a bit more time and effort to put himself in order, and while he wasn't quite ready to think Alec was considerate enough to leave while he did so, he was grateful that at least he hadn't offered to help, or worse, just done it for him.

Alec came back into the room, but didn't sit back down. Logan knew a cue when he saw one, and stood to leave.

"See you around," he said, knowing it was lame, but also knowing that none of what he usually said or did in these situations (to the extent that he'd been in situations quite like this) would be welcome.

"Yeah, sure," was all Alec replied, although without any of the anger that might have accompanied those words. He wasn't upset, or even resigned. He was just...Alec.

Logan frowned for a moment. He thought again of Max, and the virus, and everything they had and hadn't promised each other.

Spontaneity.

"So," he said, "this, um, going for it thing."

Alec raised an eyebrow, "Yeah?"

"Well, as you so helpfully pointed out, it's kind of a foreign concept to me. I might need a few more demonstrations."

Even Logan would never say that Alec was slow on the uptake, and the knowing grin that spread across his face was answer enough. There were no conversations needed, no establishing of expectations. No remembering the right color flowers. They both knew where they stood.

"See you around," he repeated, and left for home.

 


End file.
